


Who I've Not Yet Become

by LumosLyra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Crackers, Fluff, Growing Up, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Soul-Searching, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27699679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra
Summary: A large mirror sat in the room, just to the left of Albus’ bed and James whipped around to see how the Christmas Cracker might have transfigured his own appearance. At the sight of himself, he took several steps forward and pressed his hand against the cool glass of the mirror.“I’ve found you,” he whispered, tracing his appearance in the glass.
Relationships: James Sirius Potter/Lorcan Scamander
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13
Collections: The Marauders Advent 2020





	Who I've Not Yet Become

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marauders Advent 2020 fest! My prompt was Christmas Crackers and James Sirius Potter. Thank you so much to Charlie9646 for advice on writing a trans character and for alpha-ing and to lolitaweasley for beta-ing!

**Age 28**

The bright light of winter filtered in through the barely parted drapes, bathing the room in a glow of cool white light. At the unwelcome intrusion, James’ body turned towards the familiar source of heat at his side and he curled his body around his partner. His arm flung over Lorcan’s midsection and his forehead brushed the curve of his partner's spine. Lorcan’s hand lifted James’ hand with a hiss to move it off of his bare skin, his body tensing.

“You’re cold.” 

James hummed and pressed the palm of his hand against Lorcan’s abdomen, moving that extra two inches closer so his chest would be fully pressed against Lorcan’s back. “And you’re warm.” 

Lorcan yawned and entwined their fingers together over his stomach. “Go back to sleep.” 

“Can’t. It’s Yule.” The memories had already begun to play behind James’ eyes before he even opened them, the significance of the day and those leading up to it weighing heavily on his mind. 

**Age 9**

It was the night of the annual Rememberance Gala at Hogwarts and his father was due to give a speech. From the heated conversation he’d overheard, his father hated giving speeches and didn’t even want to go, but they still went and James hated every second of it, except for two. His mother had dressed him up in a purple frock and his hair was braided intricately around the crown of his head, a tiara sparkling just behind the braid. His younger brother, Albus Severus, wore a three piece suit with a tiny pocket watch that James’ fingers itched to play with. His brother resembled his father, a tiny gentleman in the making whereas his dress was similar to that of his mothers, though hers was a pretty shade of lilac whereas his was a darker aubergine. 

For as long as he could remember, he’d hated dresses and seeing Albus dressed in the suit, looking so much like their father, he felt the pang of jealousy and frustration well in his chest as he tugged at the skirts of his dress, as if it would make them suddenly transfigure into trousers. 

He squirmed in his chair, the tulle of the skirt scratching at his scrape-covered knees, as he waited for his father to give his speech. A blond man with a pointed nose, whom James would later know as Doctor Draco Malfoy, spoke before James’ father. The words he said resonated with James and would continue to do so for years to come. 

“And even though the events of the past fifteen years have shaped a path I never thought I might find myself on following the events of 1996 to 1998,” James followed the speaker's gaze to where his own wife and child sat proudly in the front row, “I remain on the hunt for who I’ve not yet become." 

The words echoed in his ears hours later when he was running away from Albus, Rose, and Dominique. Tears stung at his eyes and he wiped them away with his hand as he rounded a corner. Nearly coming face to face with a wall, James thrust his hands out and caught himself, the rough stone scraping against the palms of his hands. He cried in frustration—not in pain, because he knew another scolding was on the horizon. 

James slumped back against the wall of the alcove and pinched his eyes shut as he slid down the rough brick, the fabric of the dress catching here and there. He would already be scolded about the bit of blood from his palms and for the prank Albus and Rose had played on Mr. Malfoy, though he wasn’t the instigator. How was he supposed to have known that the glass of water he was taking to the former Death Eater was thoroughly laced with giggle water and a vial of _ Tarantallegra Tonic _ . 

His head fell back against the wall, dislodging one of the braids and letting it fall from where it had been previously secured to dangle over his shoulder. When he opened his eyes to intentionally roll them, his gaze caught on a mirror. There were strange words around the top he didn’t understand, some foreign language perhaps but the most curious thing about the mirror was that it didn’t show a sniffling girl in a party frock, it showed a smiling boy in a three-piece suit waving back at him. 

James stood up and looked at the person in the mirror. He examined their features and found them to be his own. Instead of braided, his hair was pulled back into a messy bun, reminiscent of old photographs he’d seen of Great-Godfather Sirius. The suit he wore was tailored to fit, just like the one Albus wrote and the chain of a tiny pocket watch could be seen. The tie was the same deep aubergine as his dress, but the suit was black and his shoes were simply polished instead of adorned with glitter. 

James drew a deep breath and touched the mirror, the reflection morphing away to show him as he was—tear stained cheeks, purple frock, skinned knees, and a haphazard braid. He pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned, heart thumping with anticipation as the boy reappeared once more in the mirror. 

James’s mouth formed whispered words, watching as the boys lips did the same. “I remain on the hunt for who I’ve not yet become.” 

  
  


**Age 11**

He didn’t have a chance to return to Hogwarts again until he began school, nearly two years later. His trunk was filled with a myriad of skirts and high socks his mother insisted upon, but several pairs of uniform trousers he’d fought to bring along. The skirts never saw the light of day, though he wore the socks beneath his trousers, folding them down several times except on very cold days when the extra length kept his legs warm. 

It took many nights of sneaking around the castle until he found the mirror again. The boy in the mirror looked more like himself, wearing a set of Gryffindor robes, a crisp white shirt tucked into a pair of belted trousers, and a half-knotted tie. Instead of fringe and high-pony, the boy in the mirror still wore the haphazard bun at the back of his head. James pulled his hair out of the muggle elastic and twisted it into a messy bun before he slicked his fringe back and secured it with a pin. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was closer. 

**Age 13**

Rose had managed to nick a Cheery Change Charms Christmas Cracker while her father’s back was turned. She’d hidden it in her schoolbag and convinced him and Al to pull the curious tri-shaped cracker, one end for each of them. Mum was busy with Lily Luna and Dad was cooking the meal their family would share later, so the three children were left to play alone in the Albus’ room upstairs. 

James tucked his skirt beneath his knees and rose to a tall kneel on the rug. Rose’s eyes sparkled with mischief to find out exactly what the cracker would do, Albus just looked wary. But James felt a rush of excitement thrumming through his veins and he curled his fingers around the end of the cracker, watching as his brother and cousin did the same. 

Rose, being the little bossy witch that she was, demanded they count to three and greedily waited for someone to begin the count so she could claim the final number. 

James rolled his eyes and drawled “one” in his best impression of Mr. Malfoy. 

Albus’ voice was a bit shaky when he called “two”, but Rose proudly announced “three” and the three young wizards tugged at the cracker, separating the paper and activating the charm. 

A cloud of orange fog enveloped them and the three preteens sputtered, coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces to clear the haze. When the fog finally receded, he caught sight of Albus and Rose and his eyes widened. Rose’s hair was intricately styled with a tiara nestled amidst tamed curls and she wore a dress in a subtle pale pink that he was nearly certain both he and Albus could fit beneath. His cousin’s face lit up as if she’d just been given her own vault and Gringotts and she spun around in her excitement. Albus was similarly elated with his own appearance, clothed in an entire kit Tutshill Tornadoes Quidditch gear, complete with Potter emblazoned on the back. 

A large mirror sat in the room, just to the left of Albus’ bed and James whipped around to see how the Christmas Cracker might have transfigured his own appearance. At the sight of himself, he took several steps forward and pressed his hand against the cool glass of the mirror. 

“I’ve found you,” he whispered, tracing his appearance in the glass.

His hair was in the same messy bun he’d seen in the mirror at Hogwarts for years. A crisp dove gray oxford with rolled sleeves peeked out from beneath a brocade waistcoat in dark blue while well-tailored black trousers covered his legs while black wingtips covered his feet. His fingers drifted to the pocket watch tucked into the pocket of the waistcoat and he pulled out the timepiece with a smile, turning it over to find the crest of House Potter on the back.

“I think your charm backfired. Rotten luck, cousin,” Rose frowned, her arms crossed over her chest, the tulle of her skirt rustling with each miniscule movement. 

He felt the pull of Albus’ arms around his waist from behind, his brother’s head peeking out near James’ arm. “My brother looks amazing.” 

Rose wrinkled her nose, her head tilting in apparent confusion, “You don’t have a—” 

“—Shut up, Rose. Yes I do, and he’s perfect.” 

**Age 14**

It was in his fourth year when Hogwarts wouldn’t allow him up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. James held his breath as he ascended the stairs to the boys', a set he’d rarely been up and walked through the corridors until he found a door listing his own name and those of four other boys in his year. When he pushed open the door, it was Lorcan Scamander who noticed him first, turning around and holding his hand held out in greeting. 

“I’m Lorcan,” he said, bright blue eyes flicking between James’s face and hand. 

The gesture warmed James from the inside out given that he had known the blond boy for years, through his mother’s friendship with his own parents and their own education. It was a new start, something fresh and wonderful and the rioting pixies in his stomach marginally calmed when he took Lorcan’s hand.

“James,” he said in a moderately firm but still nervous tone as he shook the other boy’s hand firmly. 

It hadn’t been difficult to choose his name, but accepting that he needed a new name had been much harder, self-doubt and insensitive words flooding his mind day in and day out as he dressed in the morning and undressed at night. The mirror could have been some cruel trick, it could have been some phantom projection but he saw the way the boy looked in his dreams and yearned for the happiness he’d seen in his hazel eyes. 

Coming back to Hogwarts had only been an affirmation of what he knew in his soul to be true. 

The scion of House Potter was not female. 

The name he’d chosen held significance in his family. He’d seen pictures of his grandfather time and again—his arm slung around Great-Godfather Sirius' shoulders, handing Uncle Remus a bar of chocolate, or picking up and spinning Grandma Lily. He loved his family and it felt right to honor them in some way, even if he’d never known them. 

“Glad to have you with us, James.” 

**Age 19**

It had been Doctor Malfoy who performed the surgery and when he was finally healed, he felt more himself than he ever had before. The binders were tucked away in a drawer to be forgotten and he vigilantly applied cream to heal the scars from his top surgery. A small scar remained, but it was something he rarely noticed when he looked at himself in the mirror. 

For the first time in his life, he was comfortable in his body. The cost of the procedure had been an unconditional gift from his parents at Christmas. He’d spoken to his mother about considering it months before and she’d been supportive of whatever made him happy. 

Just as they always had been. 

He knew very well how his life could have gone, but the moment he proudly walked downstairs in the little suit the Christmas Cracker had conjured, his parents accepted him. His mother stopped pushing dresses and ribbons at him and he was finally able to shop for clothing that suited him. Albus called him his brother and his pronouns, which felt so out of place before, changed in that moment and they felt  _ right _ . 

His name was legally changed a few years later. 

It took a bit of getting used to for the rest of the family and for some, the changes came easier than for others, but his brother and cousins were never far enough away that there wasn’t someone there to gently, but firmly correct Grandma Molly when she slipped and called him by his birth name, or when Aunt Fleur slipped between English and French and mixed up the pronouns. The apologies were heartfelt when it happened and he did his best to be understanding, but it still stung a bit each time they forgot. 

**Age 28**

Lorcan squeezed his hand, firmly tugging James’ arm around his bare torso. “Then at least stay in bed.”

“Did you really think I was going somewhere? It’s Yule.” James’ lips found the vertebra at the edge of Lorcan’s torso and kissed a trail from the slight protrusion down the line of his partner’s spine until his lips landed between Lorcan’s shoulder blades. 

“I did wonder,” Lorcan sighed, lifting James’ hand to kiss his fingers. 

James pushed himself up using his free arm and leaned over the man in his bed, seeking out his lips and firmly pressing his own against them, the stubble just below Lorcan’s nose pricking at the edge of James’ lip as he kissed him. He felt the curl of Lorcan’s hand around one of his heavily inked forearms just before he was tugged down and a pair of arms encircled him. His fingers found their way into his partner’s silky blond hair, the strands tangling around each digit and he tugged Lorcan’s face impossibly closer, deepening the kiss. 

James could feel the stiffness of Lorcan’s cock pressing against his backside and he canted his hips, forcing a moan to fall from between his lovers lips. “Mmm… do that again.” 

James smirked and obliged, rocking his hips back against Lorcan’s as he walked his hands up Lorcan’s chest until he was kneeling over him, legs straddled over his partner’s waist. He felt the teasing press of Lorcan’s fingers against his clit as he rolled his hips again, a low moan vibrating in his chest as the pleasure slowly built in his abdomen. 

He loved this, waking up next to the man he’d loved since he was sixteen and making love—something slow, languid, and perfect in it’s ease. 

Lorcan’s fingers stroked James’s clit, pressing and massaging the sensitive bud as his cock slid between his and James’ bodies, slick with evidence of their arousal. 

“You’re a bloody tease,” James groaned as Lorcan withdrew his fingers, his partner’s hand coming to rest against his hip. 

Lorcan chuckled and pressed at James’ hip to urge him off. “Not for long.” 

James shifted and knelt on the bed, his hand grasping Lorcan’s cock before he lowered himself, parting his lips to take the tip of it inside of his mouth. The head rested heavily against his tongue and James licked a slow stripe around the sensitive glans, pulling a hiss from between Lorcan’s lips. “Gods, that’s the best.” 

The vibration of James’ throaty chuckle around the head of Lorcan’s cock made the other man swear as James took him further into his mouth, his tongue tracing each sensitive ridge until his nose was buried in the light colored curls at the base. A few even strokes was all it took and the salty taste of his lover filled his mouth. He barely had time to swallow before he was tugged down and kissed hard on the mouth. 

Lorcan kissed a trail down James’ body, tongue painting lines down his sternum and playfully circling his belly button before landing between his thighs. James’ fingers curled in Lorcan’s blond hair, tugging him forward until his lips wrapped around James’ clit and the sensitive bud was sucked into his mouth. 

“ _ Fuck.”  _ The word fell unbidden from his lips as Lorcan’s tongue circled his clit, hands holding his thighs apart as they began to shake and quiver with each careful stroke. The pressure mounted, building in his abdomen until his body went numb with pleasure and he moaned his lover’s name in a symphony of fractured syllables. 

Lorcan crawled up James’s body, his bright eyes sparkling as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against James’ lips before collapsing next to him on the bed and curling his body around James, Lorcan’s head coming to rest against James’ chest. Blunted nails trailed over Lorcan’s arm as James tucked his other arm back behind his head, closing his eyes. 

“Your mum’s expecting us,” Lorcan murmured, his voice already heavy with the impending haze of sleep. 

James yawned, “We can have a lie in, it’s Yule.” 

“You’re just trying to avoid Rose handing you another Christmas Cracker.” 

It wasn’t as if Lorcan was wrong. “The last one she made me test turned my hair purple for a week and before that, the paper crown got stuck to my head last Christmas. Uncle George never should have hired her.”

“It was rather fun hearing your uncle give a resounding three-chorus rendition of ‘Weasley is our King.” 

He groaned at the memory of Uncle Ron singing after two too many whiskeys and nudged Lorcan’s shoulder. “Go back to sleep.” 

Lorcan twisted, grinning up at James. “Can’t. it’s Yule.” 


End file.
